Regrets

Non, rien de rien,

Non, je ne regrette rien,

She sang.

I concur.

Life’s rocking chair test

will tease the past

in days to come.

I’ll hum the tune

and wonder why

I did not do,

embrace,

risk,

jump.

I’ll speculate on

chances lost,

a life less well-lived,

moments that fled

before me

while I weighed the pros and cons.

Glimpses of might have beens

and could have, should haves

will torment my cowardly soul.

But, for those times

when I did,

when I grasped

the horns,

let them pierce,

rode the bull,

let it throw me

high,

crazily,

wildly

to tumble hurt

on dusty ground,

audience baying

or applauding,

I’ll be glad;

regretting only

the days I waved

white flag,

not red

and bled

inside,

gored

by fear.

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